


Remorse

by thirdtimecharmed



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-15
Updated: 2011-05-15
Packaged: 2017-10-19 10:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirdtimecharmed/pseuds/thirdtimecharmed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There isn't much to say about the fic that the fic itself will not share. Gamzee, no longer crazy, finds the bodies of his dead friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remorse

Oh dear god. There’s blood on your hands. So much blood. For a while you can only stare at it, frantically trying to remember whose it was, where it came from. Your club drops from your hand and rolls in loopy circles along the floor, finally bumping into something and skittering to a halt. You look up, to see the corpse of a friend.

Helplessly, you kneel next to her. Her glasses are broken and askew, and she is covered in her own blood. Beyond her is another body, and another. Seeing the corpses of your friends spread before you, you begin to remember.

Once the memories start flooding in, you wish they would leave again. You remember the feeling of grasping your club; you remember laughing deliciously as it made impact after impact on the cowering figure before you. You remember the threats you made, the way you toyed with your victims- your friends.

You fall to your knees before the final body. His eyes are frozen wide in horror, horror that must have been focused on you. Robotically, you close his eyes for him, till he looks like he could be sleeping. With a lurch you remember taunting him especially, playing mind games and taunting him as you slew the rest with out mercy, leaving him alive on purpose. You wanted to see his fear- your best friend. At least you remember feeling all of that. The actions were all yours; the feelings were all felt by you. You are guilty in the end of everything, because you let them take control. Those two voices that had harangued you since birth, telling you that you were special and superior. They swore you were destined for great things, but they had always scared you. You saw now that you had good reason to suppress them for as long as you did. Until the spoor slime ran out.

The memories flood back faster and thicker, more vivid than you ever wanted to see. With each terror stricken face that flashes bye you feel another goodbye pierce your heart. Their blood covers your body. You even see writing on the walls. You disgust yourself for ever allowing them control over you. Their sick whispers had led you to the dark carnival of your own making.

They left you standing in a pool of your friends' blood. Their task was completed; you were the hapless weapon of destruction. This was your destiny. You were always meant to be left alone to your own guilt and loneliness.

You want to cry out but you cannot make a sound. There is an iron fist clenched around your stomach, and you curl up helplessly on the ground, afloat in a sea of your own regret. Behind the closed lids of your eyes you see the faces of your friends from happier times as they fade away. You see them then dying, all of them, cornered and frightened.

Your fingers grasp the nearest weapon. Perfect. You take the harpoon gun from the clutches of your friend. It hadn’t done much good for him, but you hoped it could help you along. Roughly, you wipe your eyes clear of the makeup the blood and the tears and take one last look at the work you’ve done. Their corpses are the last things you see, as you do the only good deed you’ve ever done in your life.


End file.
